A/N: Gasp… I'm starting another fic… because I've had this one on my mind for a while, and I've been itching to write it. I'll update in Blood and Bullets ASAP, but for now, a new idea…

Disclaimer: I don't own Card Captor Sakura or the characters.

Full summary: Money's tight for Li Corp. The company's cruise line is being sold, and it was his idea to do so. He boards the last ship out, and his job—simply to report the ship's condition and return to his father. Problem is, he falls in love with one of the workers the very second he lays eyes on her. He has seven days to tell her, or he'll more than likely never see her again. She has some things she's hiding as well, though.

Repost reason: I noticed I forgot one VERY important part in the full summary, so that's the reason for the confusion. There's no update yet, but I'll be getting to it soon!

--

Do You Believe?

--

As day one breaks

It was early in the morning. Well, early enough to want to make someone want to rip their hair out of their head and make them want to go "why can't I just sleep in, I had a difficult night of work and now I have to wake up at five in the morning so I can go back to work I was practically just at ten minutes ago".

Syaoran Li sighed, finding it rather difficult to keep up with life lately.

A lot of shit was happening lately with the stock market. The Li Corp was losing tons of shares to stock holders and they were basically lost to all support. He knew the company his father, grandfather, and his grandfather's father and so on was bound to come to end, in the state it was holding.

On countless occasions, he had tried suggesting solutions leading to small steps of the company's unlikely recovery, but his old man was ignorantly turning his word down. His father was a proud man with a spoon up his ass and obviously had a reputation to keep. He didn't need to get feeble, weak advice from his son. Of course he didn't. Just what is an heir whom is not allowed a single word in a predicament of the very soul he was to inherit?

Why, just a figure. Someone who simply talks. Someone who just so happened to roll the lucky seven and got the bimbo on the stick. Someone who just happened to have that B-27 to complete that bingo.

Really, though, it wasn't like that. The day he was born, it was decided that he would take over this burden that was supposed to be the once great Li Corporations.

He pulled himself to the shower, not bothering to turn on the bathroom light as he trudged in. He seemed unscathed by the icy cold fountain that washed over him. He tucked a towel around his waist, leaving the frosty cage. Amber met amber as his eyes trailed towards the huge mirror implanted into the wall. A frown creased his lips. Though it was dark, he could clearly distinguish his outline. He personally admitted he looked old, dark bags under his eyes, a hard expression that no other twenty-one year old could mimic…

He was going to need a lot of caffeine today to keep him straight. A lot.

--

Syaoran inhaled the coffee he had clenched in his grasp.

"Is there anything else I can get you, Mr. Li?" a robotic voice asked.

He had nearly forgotten his secretary existed. "Um…" he knew he didn't have to think. "No." he concluded solidly before taking another long and well-needed sip at his caffeine-intoxicated drink.

"Very well, then. There's a full staff meeting at ten on the top floor." She bowed deeply before taking her leave. He watched her with intense, unsettling amber orbs.

He put down the mug and checked his watch, leaning back in his chair.

--

There really wasn't a point in going to staff meetings, seeing how he didn't have a single word in them. He sat quietly, penetrating gaze focusing on the wood panel wall in front of him, much to many's relief.

"Xiao-Lang," a deep voice called. It had been the first time he had been addressed in the elapsed hour that had taken the meeting's turn. Actually, this was the first time he had ever been addressed in a meeting.

He peered at the powerful figure that stood just one chair to his left. He took his elbows off the table, placing them in his lap. He wouldn't forget his manners, even if he disliked this man. He had a reputation to keep, himself. "Yes, father?" he urged professionally.

The old man's face hardened as his son's unbreakable stare met his. "I'm sure you're aware of the cruise ship branch we have running." It was almost questioning. He nodded statically.

He continued with no hesitation. "I've decided upon selling the entire business to a marketing organization that would do very finely in making money off of the various parts composed of both ships we have running." His father's eyes swept across the room for recognition of those present.

Syaoran clenched his hands together.

What a bastard.

That had been his idea he brought up privately with his old man. His idea. And he was claiming it as one of his very own. He knew he was being robbed, and as much as he hated to admit it, he had to take it. He had to stay quiet. "That's a great idea, father." He commented stiffly, a sour coating just invisible behind his words.

He ignored the praise. "I was planning on having a higher staff official to monitor a sailing to see firsthand where the crew and what not lie," he held his eyes sternly as they returned back to him. "I want you to do it, Xiao-Lang. It's a simple job. Monitor, report back, and we'll work from there. Does that sound easy?"

He gritted his teeth together. He knew what the bastard was thinking, yet he hadn't directly said it. Basically, 'go do this since I have no other use for you'. He knew, as well as the superior Li, that there was no need for this sort of arrangement. He didn't need to go and do this, and it wasn't necessary. Maybe he was just that much of a nuisance to the point where his old man didn't want him anywhere near him. Maybe this was an attempt to rid of him for a week.

'You wanted a part of it, it was your idea', his old man's eyes seemed to say. 'so here you go.'

--

He didn't want to go, but didn't want to disappoint his father even more. Who knew what the man would say about him? It was always a mystery. He wasn't willing to play the guessing game, so he went along like a puppet on strings. He knew it wouldn't last long. Maybe if he was lucky, in a week when he came back, the entire company would be in ruins, he wouldn't have a house to live in, and he can make the easy life living the streets of Hong Kong finding shelter in a box.

He scoffed at the thought.

Seeing himself in a box made him sick.

He shook his head, running his fingers through his permanently messy chocolate locks. He let out a frustrated sigh. He continued to drag his belongings.

Innocent people don't need to receive a punch in the face because of what the bastard said. He attempted to calm himself. It worked, and before he knew it, his mind was on another matter.

Would this internally benefit him? If this really worked out, and if money really started coming from this idea—his idea—would his father secretly thank him for it? Would things look up? He could never be too sure about one path. He could only place his bets and hope for the best.

Security was quite ready for his arrival. He easily walked through the metal detectors and the ridiculous feeding line that led into the ship. Envious glares poked at his back, but he took no mind to them. If these people knew who he was, then he would most definitely retrieve much more respect. He took no mind to their small, unwhispered jealousy. Really, he just walked past the line and was just one person. Did they really have a reason to feel so hateful? Not at all.

He shrugged it off, finding his way through the mess. "I'm sorry you've had to carry your things, Mr. Li." A familiar yet unfamiliar robotic voice sounded in front of him. He turned his gaze, raising a brow observatively. He dismissed the attendant's apology.

"It's hectic back there." He attempted to start a conversation with the lady.

She only smiled. "All in a day's work, this is normal."

His eyes wandered her as she took his things. To imagine she'd be out of a job, and she wouldn't even know it when she came back to work another week on the ship; the vessel would be gone and sold piece by piece. He felt growing pity in his stomach, a nasty feeling, indeed. He didn't reply as she told him his belongings would be in his room when he went to retire. He nodded her off.

He got a moment to himself to gaze upon the impressive ship. He'd seen it in pictures, but nothing amounted to the real thing up close. It was mostly a standard white color; the only detail fixing it apart from any other cruise ship was the colors adorned across the mass and down both flanks of the ship. It was a comforting yet powerful red, yellow spinning with decorations and designs over the crimson strip. It held the Li Corp logo on the side, as well as the establishment date. His amber eyes scanned the deck. Although the ship hadn't set sail yet, activity seemed to already be booming. He shoved his hands into his pockets before walking aboard the ship—the CF Fanren, named after his eldest sister.

He passed right through the ticket masters, his eyes unmoving from the amazing chandelier that presented itself in the main lobby. Eye-catching, colorful shirts, disposable cameras, and souvenirs were on sale. As he trailed through the accumulating crowd of vacationers, he was greeted by more than several workers, which he managed to acknowledge all with a curt nod. One bravely stepped up to him. "May I take your coat for you, Mr. Li?" he had inquired politely and formally.

He was amazed at how the mere mention of his name caused people minding their own business to turn. He did hear some murmuring, of which topics he was sure were directed about him. "No, I'm quite fine. I was just about to head up to the top deck." He remembered to answer the man who'd offered to take his coat. He professionally nodded, saying something about asking if he needed anything else. He knew, as the man left to attend to other things, he'd never see him again.

He dusted off his shoulder as he stepped into the elevator, relieved that he was the only one going up. That relief soon disappeared as it stopped and picked up more people. The space only seemed to be a teasing box. As the elevator reached the top floor, he gladly stepped out of the small prison.

Almost immediately, a cool, sea-washed breeze met his face and ruffled his hair as he stepped out and towards the railing. He hadn't realized how stuffy he had been in the elevator, as well as the crowded lobby. He took a second to relinquish a moment of rest and peace, nothing but the soothing breeze whispering into his ears.

Well… all least until he heard a glass crashing into who knew how many pieces, followed by a high-pitched yelp of surprise.

"Hooooeee!!"

He flinched, attention automatically drawled to the source of the mishap behind him. He indeed saw the splattered, unrecognizable shape that had once been a glass cup, shattered onto the floor. His amber eyes trailed up to whom he guessed was the culprit of the accident.

Something similar to the properties of a lightning bolt went through him and obviously must have struck him dead where he stood. Because before him, he was most definite—most positive, absolutely sure, one-hundred-ninety percent, three thumbs up—that his eyes were resting upon one of the most beautiful, most gorgeous, jaw-dropping, stunningly amazing individuals he'd ever seen.

He was mesmerized in a trance he knew he was unable to break free from. It was an overpoweringly good thing, much less any part bad.

Warmth bursted through him as he only continued to quietly view her actions, her cute yet fearful expression stained with worry. He noticed captivating emeralds, something that was indeed a rare sight to see this day and age. They were a lovely tint, perfect and profound to unmeasureable standards. Never, had he, in his life, seen eyes like that.

The way she seemed to panic lifted a smile to his would-be frowning lips. His eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed.

He paced casually on over, crouching down to pick up some of the bigger shattered fragments. He tried not to look at her. He tried not to make a big deal out of all this. Mentally, he was failing at all of these tasks. He kept peering up at her, wanting to be lost in her being forever.

"Oh, no! Please, sir!" she said frantically, so lightly and delicately. It wasn't robotic at all. It wasn't a carbon copy of a voice recording. It was different and settling. Unique ear candy. "I was just about to fix that up! I'm just so clumsy and all, I don't know why I haven't been fired yet… dah, I knew it was a bad idea to carry these! And to carry so many, I must have been calling for this!" Her mind seemed to wander aimlessly as he finally allowed his soft eyes to rest on her.

It was like a hand had glided down his cheek, one of pure comfort and welcoming, one that had not only warmed him by the touch, but by the thick serenity and care that it had touched his sink, it had sunken into him and created an image he wouldn't ever forget and enlightened his soul. It was a heart-stopping experience, simply gazing upon this beautiful woman he most definitely didn't do a thing to deserve to gaze upon. He realized he had stopped breathing, reminding himself to take a necessary intake of oxygen.

God, she had such wondrous, flowing, twisting, curling auburn hair. It was short and she possessed a style he hadn't seen before. She was everything new. Everything introduced in his life he was sure he wouldn't see ever again. The thought already pained his heart.

She was wearing a standard waitress uniform, but she fit it so perfectly and beautifully, he wondered if she was giving a very high effort at looking good or if she was barely trying. She could have easily pulled off either.

Just in her visage, he couldn't find a thing wrong about her and everything right. He could already see a light in this darkness. An animative ripple amongst an otherwise stale puddle of water. Blooming pink flowers in a dull, lifeless garden that would provide much more than beauty to come.

He continued to hold the glass fragments. He had already forgotten where he was and what he was doing.

"I'm so sorry you had to pick those up!" she fretted as she put down the remaining glasses in her grasp onto the nearby table. "And I couldn't make it here, why?" she mumbled to herself. His eyes only followed her, his mouth unable to make any sounds to stop her from leaving. It was like a bad dream. A nightmare. Being unable to speak, talk, or move. Yet at the same time, he must have been witnessing a true blessing. He felt invisible and hallow, though. As if he had been completely carved away from any personal feelings and all his relations to completely nothing but a transparent watcher.

To his greater relief, she returned with a dust pan and a broom. She sputtered out countless more apologies. Each one struck him like a bullet. She made fluent, graceful movements as she swept the glimmering glass bits into the plastic container. He hated how he could only watch, his voice still abandoning him. It was when she directly apologized to him again, was he able to find words.

"N-no… it's alright." It was the first words he had actually spoken to her. Though they were faint and dazzled, they were coherent words. She seemed surprised for a moment before shaking her head vigorously.

"It's not alright! Oh, I should have known better! I should have been watching where I was going!"

She responded. He couldn't help but to smile grandly. He wasn't a transparent image. He wasn't a hologram after all. He felt, now more than ever, that he actually existed. He chuckled softly as he broke his amber orbs from her, the action stinging him in the ass.

He placed the glass pieces in the dust pan she offered towards him, muttering more apologies. "It's alright, really," he assured. Oh, didn't he want to assure her. He reached out, his hands shaky, and placed the unrepairable pieces into the pan. "They're really cheap, anyway. They're practically made to break so you can buy more." Butterflies of all sorts and kinds tickled his insides. It was such a warm, gracious feeling. He was able to scrounge up more words, after all.

She overlooked him questioningly. "Um… excuse me," she mustered in a small voice, the innocent sound nearly bringing tears of beauty to his eyes. "but, how do you know that?"

A smirk twitched his lips up, but he forced it away as he inspected his surroundings, which he hadn't even noticed. "This is my father's ship, but he unofficially has given it to me, so I know a lot about it."

He felt a long pause, uncomfortable in the silence. His amber eyes turned towards her, only to see huge, widened emeralds with a majorly surprised stare. Her jaw was dropped open, and she seemed to have lost her color. He frowned, seeing exactly how she took the new information.

"Y-y-y-you're Sya-Sya-Sya-Syao-r-ran Li?" She stuttered horribly. His frown met the rest of his facial expression, his brows creasing into a furrow and his eyes darkening. She looked as though she were about to be hung, his stomach curdling with the rancid sight of her growing fear.

"Yes—" he tried to explain the situation, but the apologies were faster. He watched in despair, his heart crumpling as she bowed her head as low as she could, finding it difficult with the cleaning utensils in her hands.

"It…" he watched the disaster unfold, feeling everything in his body sink into his stomach. "It's alright, really. It's just one glass, and you didn't mean it." He managed as she had fought for a split second with breath. "Here, let me help you." He offered, taking up a portion of the glasses perched on the table. "Where are these headed?"

"Hoe! R-really, I was just about to get to those! I ju—"

"Where are they headed?" he cut her off, regretting he had to use his sense of authority to break through to her. She swallowed in response, clenching onto the broom and pan.

"If I-I could just put these away, Mr. Li, then I'll be right back to help you!" He wasn't able to protest before she ran back in the direction that she had gotten the broom and pan. He peered around for spectators, and sure enough, a few snobs were shaking their heads and laughing. He gave them a cold stare, a dangerous frosty fire upon their backs. They turned, got one look at him, and couldn't hold his eyes for more than a second. He wanted to do more than just stare—to just go and beat the lights out of them—but he knew it'd be irrational and definitely wouldn't look good for his image.

She returned upon ridding the broom and dust pan, a gust of wind rushed out of her quickly, displaying as a distressed sigh. She didn't meet his eyes, which clawed a knife into his back.

"What's your name?" It was sudden and unexpected, but he needed to know. He needed to know now, or he'd forever hold his tongue. Mixed emotions crawled through him as her beautiful emeralds rested on him, his face heating up into a surely strong blush.

"It's Sakura Kinomoto, Mr. Li." She replied unsteadily. His lips pulled into a content smile, though it was a light one.

"Please, Sakura," It sounded so divine on his tongue, he wasn't sure if he was even allowed to say it. Her name alone—her fitting, elegant name—dazzled him at how well it seemed to fit her. He knew he had seen pink flowers with her, and now he recognized them as cherry blossoms. "please call me Syaoran." He seemed to beg. He would get down on his knees, now, and properly beg for her to do so but call him by his first name.

She hesitated, a hopeful jump ready to spark within him. "Syaoran," she tried. And that spark went off.

Suddenly, his name didn't feel like a word on a document. He didn't feel as though it was pinned to him. He didn't feel like it was simply something to call him. It was a sprawl of life that jumped through the characters, a meaning to his calling cutting loose and running about, a purpose to just say 'Syaoran' was now given.

If only she knew how important it made him feel, just by accepting the offer to call him by his first name.

If only she knew.

He paused for a long while to let it sink in, his smile slowing growing bigger. "Thank you…" he expressed plainly. He would be able to say so much more to her, but decided it was best to keep it simple.

She blinked at him quizzically. "You're welcome." She seemed to cheer up the slightest fraction, which only made his own spirits rise higher.

"Um... where to?" He lifted some of the cups from the carrier, as much as he was able to take.

She watched him solemnly. He knew she didn't want him to help, for the reason of his position. That much was clear. He insisted, though, his gentlemen side working over him.

"Oh! This way!" she led him towards what seemed like a secret door, into a bustling kitchen. He followed closely, not wanting to look like a stranger who'd waltzed in with stolen cups in an attempt to make a lame get-away. Sakura skillfully maneuvered around the passing workers, spinning in such manners that he could only stare at and try to follow less than a fraction as graceful.

She finally reached the stock closet, placing her glasses into a self that seemed made for them. He placed them in the spot, too, carefully laying them down. He sighed, stepping back. He flexed his shoulders, cracking his neck and fingers. He felt as though he could do another one hundred tasks, anything for her.

"Umm…" he directed his attention to the blushing woman, frozen by her very being. "Thank you so much, Syaoran!" She bowed for what felt like the millionth time. His brows furrowed. He forced the frown to stay away, though.

"Not at all. I'd help any day." How true, his words were. He shoved his hands into his pockets, her enchanting eyes reaching him once more. The stinging remembrance of his business here returned to him like a punch to where the sun don't shine. The cruise was seven days long, and sure enough, she'd be out of a job, like the countless other working here, unexpectedly and suddenly.

Guilt gnawed on his insides. Guilt so powerful it hurt. Things had to be done, though, in order to save the company.

He realized how much the company didn't matter, next to her.

"I… umm... well—" she began.

"When's your break?" he interrupted.

She was taken aback. She slowly brought up her thin fingers, trying to count the hours. "I… well, I have a break in exactly five hours, since right now, its eight o'clock. At six, I go on another break for thirty minutes, then work until ten, when my shift ends, and the night shift kicks in, but that isn't me, because I'm on the day shift, you know? I thought about working the night shift and couldn't imagine staying up late, since I have an early bed time and all. I like to go to bed at eight, but ten's just fine! It's two hours later, and already by then, I'm usually sleepy, but I like my job and…" she trailed so many different places, it was hard to keep up. He gladly listened to her rhythmic voice, an unmovable smile lighting his features. She didn't seem to come to a stop, his chuckle finally grabbing the attention of her wandering mind.

"Right, right. Five hours?" he recovered quickly. "Hmm." He checked his watch, finding that a rather awkward time to make. They both exited the busy kitchen, the ocean's cool breath upon them both once again. She continued to watch him curiously. She probably had no clue what he was planning, he'd figured.

"Why would you want to know when my break is?" she asked sweetly.

He swallowed hard. He couldn't conjure a proper answer right away. He snapped in him sooner rather than later, though. "It's my job." He smirked down at her. Her beautiful features formed to an ever more questioning gaze, but she accepted his reply, nonetheless.

Looking down upon her, he noticed their height difference. She must have been around an adorable five foot five. It made him want to hug her—imagining the glorious feeling made him dizzy—but he could only muster a sheepish smile and wish her a good day.

--

He wasn't able to think about very much at all as he continued with his task as a monitor. Even when the captain was trying for small talk with him, he wasn't able to think of the proper responses.

"Good day for sailing, and the weather's going to be pretty good. It's calm out at sea, so there shouldn't be any difficulties. This'll definitely be a smooth week, don't you think?" The middle aged captain had inquired.

"Maybe," the chocolate locked man replied emptily before noticing what he said, "oh, yes, yes! All looks good." The captain had raised a brow suspiciously before nodding. "Good job, uh… keep at that. I'm going to go check up on some of the show productions." He excused himself from the captain's hanger, climbing various metal stairs to do so.

The rest of the day was an incoherent blur of events. Although he barely knew what he was doing half the time, he found a lot of his day swallowed by one corresponding string of happenings to another. He thought the process would be boring and dull, but he did find that he enjoyed himself with what happened behind the scenes. That didn't stop himself from being distracted, though, his mind kited to a certain individual.

The clutches of night overcame the night sky, tints of bloody red slowly disappearing to a lighter world. The stars peaked out more than usual overseas, clouds and blots of bright vapors coming in unison with the nearly full moon. The sea sang a soft song as it lapped the sides of the ship, calming his nerves from the rather hectic day.

He stepped out from the elevator, his destination reached: the deck. He turned the corner where the kitchen he had wandered into early was. It was still respectably busy, so he walked on right by it without bothering any employees. The lighting wasn't on from this point, and he soon realized it was the worker's hang out. Expect for the fact that the chairs were empty, and the lights were off. The natural, dim radiation of the moon's body was the only thing that could have kept anything visible.

His heart lurched at a familiar voice, one he'd hope to never forget. He was about to walk over the corner, but decided against it as he quietly leaned back onto the wall. Warm wavelengths went through him as the sound of her melodious, mouth-watering voice dipped and spun around his ears. The chill of the ocean was the only thing that reminded him that this wasn't a dream.

"You should really stop worrying so much, Touya! It can be unhealthy!" she scolded playfully. He could barely catch the buzz of the other person's reply. He felt an ache in his chest as she giggled in response to whomever it was she was talking to said. His breathing was uneasy and irregular. He was starting to feel sick. Very sick.

"I know, I know…" she stifled a yawn before letting out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Hey, I should really be heading to bed. I've got to get up early tomorrow."

The ache wouldn't leave, and neither would the thoughts of who it was.

"I love you, too." He could hear her smile. "Bye."

He kept very calm. Although he felt like hurling over the side of the boat, he forced himself to swallow the knot in the back of his throat (as well as the awful acid) and summoned enough courage to lean off the wall, and continue over the corner.

The ache wouldn't go away. He needed to know, though. He just needed to.

"Husband?" he inquired, causing her to jump. He wouldn't be surprised one bit if that were the case. He didn't know who wouldn't take the chance to sweep her away. She obviously had to be taken. She shook her head, his own at a tilt. She didn't seem to be able to say much, clear shock evident in her eyes. His shoulders drooped a bit. He didn't mean to scare her at all.

"Fiancée?" he continued. He answered his own question, saying his doubt under his breath. She wasn't wearing a ring. He'd most positively notice if she was wearing a ring. "Boyfriend?" he shrugged, taking his hands out of his pockets. He leaned his elbows onto the railing in which she had been standing by. He couldn't find it in him to look at those amazing emeralds.

To his surprise, he picked up the cheery sound of laughter. He felt as though he were being mocked. Stepped on. Made fun of. Haha, you didn't get to me first.

Sour thoughts overcame his mind. His amber optics turned hard as they rested upon her. She seemed to take no notice in it, her emerald orbs locked onto the ever-moving, engulfing waters.

"Touya? Nah. He's my brother." She corrected. It wasn't matter-of-factly. Her voice wasn't the slightest hint mocking, sarcastic, or teasing. He immediately felt like a shmuck, whatever that was, for jumping to such conclusions. His blood rushed to his head, dizziness overwhelming. He closed his eyes to shut out the world before him. He needed to take a breath from it.

He couldn't believe he even thought about being angry at her for something he didn't know. What was wrong with him? It wasn't like it was his business, anyway. Did he seem nosy?

"Sorry," he apologized in a low voice. God, didn't he feel like such an ass? He must have looked like an ignorant fool to her. He pried his amber hues open a fraction, inspecting her. She was mesmerized by the steady waves of the downbeat ocean. She stole his breath with her beauty.

"No, it's okay. It happens." Sakura responded softly. She had the faintest of smiles adorning her sculpted features, the ocean breeze climbing through her short, auburn tresses. She had her arms wrapped around her, her cell phone comfortably lying within her hand. She rested her weight on the rail, shifting every so while.

It felt as though a whole hour had passed, and neither had said a word. Ticking seconds were the only thing counted on the clock. Syaoran cleared his throat, feeling the knot returning. "You're single?" he murmured, not wanting to speak at a volume where the tranquil, sweet atmosphere would be disturbed.

He saw her thin brows pull together into a pout. "I don't have a husband, fiancée, or boyfriend, so I guess so."

A cordial dance rumbled through him, greater relief melting his soul. He tried so hard to conceal his smile; he could only turn away so she wouldn't see. He inhaled slowly, "That's hard to believe." He voiced his thoughts. Surely, he wouldn't be the very first to come across this young lady?

She shrugged her small shoulders. "Finding a boyfriend isn't exactly my main focus in life, you know? Though I'm taking small steps towards it and it may not seem like it, I want to become a veterinarian, and that requires a lot of work. You're probably thinking why I'm working on a cruise ship, then, well—" She paused, seeming to have choked on her words. He raised a brow questioningly. "Oh, I forgot!" she straightened her posture, her voice raising a level. "You're the owner! I-I-It's a very beautiful ship, indeed, and I'm glad I can be a part of its amazing crew!" She threw up her hand in a fashionable sailor's salute.

He stared at her, unable to come up with anything to say to her sudden outburst. He nodded very slowly, feeling as though he was catching up.

"Mr. Li—"

He quickly snapped his hand upward, interrupting her before she could add on anything extra to the 'forbidden word'. "It's Syaoran." He said. His amber eyes scanned her from head to toe. "And please don't salute me, I'm a mere human being, as you." He had to admit, the gesture was drop-dead adorable and he wouldn't mind seeing it more, but he wasn't interested in undermining her like that.

She did as she was told, both of them dropping their hands at the same time.

"Syaoran," she came forth hesitantly. He warmed as his own name touched his ears. "how long were you listening to my call?"

He hadn't been expecting the question, the horrid spirit of eavesdropping nipping angrily at his shoulder. He tried to calculate an approximate time amongst the emotions that were going through his head. He gazed around him, thoughtful. "About thirty seconds." He concluded solidly. That was about right. "Why?"

He could have sworn, in the moment her eyes were on him, that he saw a shade of relief run through them. She hastily threw on a big smile, the movement dazzling him, like pretty much everything else she did within this first day that he had met her. "No reason, just wondering!"

"Right," the chocolate locked man muttered. "Sorry, again, I didn't mean to." He pathetically claimed.

"Really, it's alright! I was just about to head—"

"To your room." Syaoran finished for her. She nodded, her happy features never failing. He checked his watch, leaning off of the handrail. "I'll walk you." It would have been an offer, had he given her the choice. She blinked at him, surprised by his choice of action.

"Th-thank you…" It was alright to him that she had no other choosing of words. He gave a nice, white smile.

"What's your room number?" he inquired.

"Room 206." Lucky for her, he actually knew where that was.

Syaoran saw himself matching the qualities of a body guard, walking next to Sakura. He could have guessed it was the way he looked around every corner, checked their backs, and keep close to her. He hoped she wouldn't notice. She didn't seem to take any signs of it and definitely didn't mind much.

The only thing that distinguished him from a body guard was his constant uptake in small talk, also known as flirting. He knew he was so openly doing so, it hurt. He was thankful she didn't pick up his vibe.

"I know it's incredibly rude to ask a woman, but if you'll forgive me, how old are you?" He asked. She adapted a thoughtful look.

"Hmm… guess." He smirked, already narrowing down his choices.

"Well, let's see… you have to be twenty-one or older in order to work here. You're most definitely not over your thirties…" He pretended to make a spectacle out of her. "So, twenty-one." It was his age, and worth trying to confirm first.

"Nope, but really close." She was older? He felt like a kid all of a sudden. The feeling melted away. He couldn't feel like that around her. He was much too comfortable.

"Twenty-two." He guessed. She shook her head, adding in a sound affect. He shoved his hands in his pockets, biting his lower lip to prevent his smile from growing. "Twenty-three?"

"Yep! There we go."

"Wow, you're two years older than me." He admitted out loud. She blinked.

"Really?" Her looked turned distant, and then snapped back to him. Her brows furrowed, delicate features forming a cute pout. "Then why are you taller than me?" Sakura inquired, sounding perked.

"Uhh," He hated how that was all he could say, but found it rather difficult to directly answer the question. He tried to scuff something up. "I'm…" he started "sorry?" He wanted to stab his words from existence, the way they came out annoying him. He really didn't need to make himself look stupid in front of her. To his enlighted surprise, she giggled.

"It's nothing to apologize for, I'm just jealous!" She crossed her arms behind her, a returned smile evident in her expression.

"Oh." He hadn't noticed. He should have seen that coming. His senses were starting to fail around her. "So, how long have you been working here?" Bringing up the topic of work on the ship made his blood run cold. Maybe he would be able to find a way to tell her without disappointing her. For now, he had nothing.

"This is the second time I've been aboard the CF Fanren, so my second trip!" The words really twisted his gut and made him nauseous. What was he supposed to say, though? 'You're going to lose your job because my company needs your money'?

He nodded slowly, feeling too sick from himself to reply. He hated the silence that conquered their conversation the rest of the way to her room, especially because he wanted to do nothing but talk to her. His voice wouldn't leave his throat, though. He wondered what was going through her mind and wanted so badly to ask her, but decided against it.

"Welp…" Syaoran began, removing his hands from his pockets and clasping his hands together. "here we are." He leaned onto the patch of wall next to her door, looking accomplished as he cross his arms.

She must have spaced out, her look of surprise telling it all. "Oh! Umm… great!" She angled herself towards him, bowing. "Thank you so, so much, Syaoran! I really appreciate it." It was a standard and expected thanks, but it hit him so deep, it could have been a life or death confession.

"You're welcome," he murmured, unable to find a louder voice. He smirked handsomely, nodding his head. "Anytime." He added. His amber eyes watched her carefully as she took out her key to her door, sliding the object across the scanner. It opened without protest. She held the door open with a hand as she gazed back at him.

"I guess this is good night." It could have been a question.

"I guess so." He laughed. "Uh, night." Syaoran returned. She gave on last breath-taking smile before closing the door behind her. He fought another small battle with his lungs, his heart pounding in his chest.

How did anyone have the power to do such a thing? To dazzle a person so deeply to the point where they couldn't breathe? He pondered it himself, running a hand through his chocolate locks.

She was really something else.

He froze as her door clicked opened, his hand placed on the back of his neck. His entire being ran cold and he was suddenly out of spit.

Sakura yelped at the sight of him. He was unable to react, too shocked to do very much at all.

"What do you need?" he asked rather huskily, trying to cover the awkwardness that he was still there waiting at her door not but about a minute later.

"N-nothing! Good night!" And with that, she closed the door hastily. He smiled, not too sure of what to make of her reaction.

He just met her, yet so many things happened at one time, it was a jumble of unclear thoughts.

He knew he was ready to barge in there and carry her away to somewhere where it was only the two of them. Somewhere where he could have Forever with her.

He didn't believe the whole love at first sight thing.

But, most positively, without a doubt—

He knew he loved her.

--

A/N: This is strictly going to be Syaoran's POV, so I hope I captured that alright. 'twas real fun to write this, and I can't wait to continue it! Hehe. :3

Please review!

~Chilo